


Blue Eyes in the Mirror

by Lystan



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-04
Updated: 2019-06-04
Packaged: 2020-04-07 21:26:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19093462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lystan/pseuds/Lystan
Summary: Not only is Bucky stuck in the backseat of a Beetle behind an asshole that won't move his seat up, he is forced to deal with the man who has replaced him as Steve's best friend and the most awkward conversation he's ever had.Set during Civil War.





	Blue Eyes in the Mirror

** Blue Eyes in the Mirror **

 

“Sharon Carter.”

Bucky was still floored. Steve was trying not to glare at him in the rearview mirror but he wasn’t succeeding. Bucky didn’t care. “So, she’s Peggy’s…?

He didn’t want the answer to be daughter. Annoyance was clear in his voice Steve's gruff answer. “Peggy’s niece.”

“Damn,” Bucky laughed, relieved. “Keepin’ it in the family, Stevie?”

Bucky saw a flash of blue eyes in the mirror. “Don’t call me that.”

Sam was already chuckling, though. “I guess we’re lucky it’s not closer than ‘niece’, right?”

Steve turned his glare on Sam, who only smiled and intoned with saccharine fondness, “ _Stevie._ ”

Bucky didn't want to like Sam because Sam was his replacement. While he was grateful that Steve had found a friend in a world he didn't belong and that Sam had his back when none of his associates would, it didn't stop the fact that Sam had taken Bucky's place as Steve's best friend from getting under his skin.

Bucky didn't want to like him, but it was hard not to.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph," Steve muttered, his hand gripping the steering wheel harder than necessary.

"Cover your ears, Sergeant," Sam deadpanned. "Captain America's about to bring some foul language up in here."

Steve snorted and Bucky could tell he was trying not to laugh. It was the only thing that stopped him from reminding Sam he was no longer a Sergeant. Instead, he deadpanned back, "Oh no."

Blue eyes in the mirror. This time they were smiling.

Sam said, "I'll have you know, Rogers, I have delicate sensibilities; so don't go dropping F bombs around me. I might faint."

"I will make sure to remember that," Steve said smugly. "That way I can give everyone a heads up, next chance I get. Wouldn't want you fainting in the middle of a firefight."

Bucky tried to relax because he could see this was their normal banter. If Steve was okay with it, Bucky could be, too.

Sam shot back, "And maybe stop kissing random women in front of me. I might have a stroke."

Blue eyes in the mirror. Steve's shoulders tensed up and he lost his sense of humor. "She wasn't random."

Bucky kept his expression blank to mask his reaction to Sam's blunt approach. What was more impressive was that Sam didn't stop there.

"You know, when I nudged you at the funeral, it wasn't like 'hey, isn't that the hot neighbor you thought had a crush on you, you should totally make out with her'." Sam turned his head to stare at Steve. "It was more of a "oh shit, there's that agent that was stationed in the apartment next to yours, pretending like she wasn't spying on you for the CIA, you should maybe stay away from her" kind of thing."

Steve changed lanes abruptly and the car he cut off blared its horn. Blue eyes in the mirror. Bucky was able to absorb so much more than what Sam had just said that he started to suspect the man was feeding him information.

Bucky spoke up. "Whose funeral?"

There was a moment of silence and then blue eyes in the mirror again. "Peggy's."

That hit Bucky harder than he thought it would and he let his expression reflect that. He held Steve's gaze in the mirror. "I'm sorry, Steve."

Blue eyes turned back to the road.

The pause after that didn't last long. Sam asked, "Are we even going the speed limit?"

Steve let off the accelerator and they slowed to match the traffic around them. Sam looked over. "No, no. Don't slow down. Normally, you drive like my grandma. I'm sort of impressed."

Steve relaxed his hand on the steering wheel and Bucky unclenched his fists. He hadn't realized he was doing it.

Steve's shoulders loosened a little more. "She's probably my age, right? Maybe we learned to drive at the same time."

"No. She's younger." Sam grinned. He could see Steve roll his eyes in the rearview and Bucky managed not to smile.

"What happened to respecting your elders?" Steve gave Sam a disapproving look.

"Probably died right along with chivalry," Bucky said, shoving his knee a little harder into the back of Sam's seat. With what little room there was, it wasn't difficult to do.

Sam obviously didn't care. "I never said I was chivalrous. Also, I don't think that concept applies to you."

Bucky jammed his knee into the seat again out of spite. Earlier, while Steve was busy hot-wiring the car, Sam had stopped complaining about the choice of vehicle long enough to tell Bucky, "I call shotgun."

Bucky had frowned, looking at the blue VW Beetle in confusion. "It has a shotgun?"

"Don't you play that card with me." Sam had held the passenger seat forward for him and all but glared. "I'm not cramming myself in the backseat for you."

"I'm surprised you're comfortable with an assassin sitting behind you," Bucky said, finally realizing what he meant by 'shotgun'.

Sam gestured with his thumb. "Get thee behind me."

It wasn't the most uncomfortable place Bucky had ever been, but he was definitely adding 'shotgun' to his list of useful phrases.

Now, sitting in the middle of the bench, he at least had some room for his legs. He felt like he had his knees to his chin, still, but it was better than trying to fit himself directly behind Sam.

Blue eyes in the mirror. "Not gettin' claustrophobic on me, are ya, Buck?"

"Even if he was, he'd still be sittin' in back." Sam looked out the window. "Could've picked a bigger car, _Stevie_."

"What exactly do you have against Beetles?" Steve replied easily.

"Interior dimensions." Sam turned to look at him. "I know you have an affinity with vintage shit, but this is taking it too far."

"You kiss your mother with that mouth?" Steve signaled his lane change, this time.

Bucky could hear the smile in Sam's voice.  "Where'd you think I got it from?"

"She sounds nice," Bucky said, mostly to himself.

Sam wasn't amused. "Don't you talk about my mama, Barnes."

Bucky almost laughed. "Why? You gonna fight me?"

Sam actually turned around to look at him, his arm over the back of the seat. His eyes were deadly calm. "I know you kicked my ass a few times over already, but I will still punch you in the face."

"Sam."

Sam remained quiet at Steve's warning tone but didn't face forward, the challenge clear in his features. Bucky regarded him coolly. "For a VA counselor, you're pretty confrontational."

Sam's brow furrowed. "I was a soldier first, and how the hell did you know that?"

Bucky realized what he'd just said and there was really no explanation besides the truth. He looked out the window, closing himself off. "It was in your file."

"My _file_?" Sam asked, his calm exterior starting to crack with anger. "You had a _file_ on me?"

"HYDRA made me research all Avengers and their known associates." Bucky kept his voice as firm as his expression. He looked at Sam when he said, "It's not like I wanted to know all this shit about you."

Sam didn't look away and they stared at each other, assessing. Finally, Sam broke the tension. "Language, Barnes."

Bucky felt himself start to smile but clenched his jaw to stop. The corner of Sam's mouth quirked up a bit. "You tryin'a give me a heart attack?"

Bucky nodded, straight-faced. "My apologies, ma'am."

Blue eyes in the mirror, smiling.

"Okay, so, what's my mom's name?" Sam asked.

Something flickered in the back of Bucky's mind. "That...information was not pertinent to the mission."

Blue eyes in the mirror.

“Oh yeah? Where was I born?” Sam continued.

Bucky could feel it coming but wasn’t able to stop his arm from twitching. "Information not pertinent to the mission."

Blue eyes in the mirror, now worried. Bucky looked away.

"I mean, I'm just trying to figure out if you got it right." Sam must not have noticed what Steve had. "What high school did I graduate from?"

Bucky clenched his fists. "Information…"

"This seems like a pretty limited profile, man. What information _was_ pertinent to the mission?" Sam cut him off, almost annoyed.

Bucky felt his pulse increase even as his muscles stayed at ease, his programming taking over fully. He wanted to clamp his jaw shut but his body wasn't listening to him anymore. "Name: Sam Wilson. Call sign: Falcon. Age: 32. Retired Air Force pararescue, five years combat duty. Currently working with combat veterans through Veterans Affairs. Close friend of Steve Roger's, call sign: Captain America. Assume both are present if one is encountered."

Even relaxed, Bucky's flesh arm had begun to shake with how hard he was holding back. He was trying to fight it, but it was like a switch had been flipped on and he couldn't stop it now that it had started. "Trained pilot in seven types of aircraft. Primary equipment: EXO-7 Falcon, specialized jetpack suit. Armored military design. Allows flight. No additional weaponry. Preferred weapons: hand-held automatic pistols and rifles. Exceptional marksman. Highly trained in hand-to-hand combat. Martial arts style: Krav Maga, favoring Judo."

Now that he was nearing the end of the report, he could feel the restraints of his programming begin to loosen and he was able to meet Sam's eye. He felt something trail down his cheek. "Kill if engaged. Most efficient method of removal is grounding and hand-to-hand combat."

As soon as he was done, Bucky exhaled heavily. Both Steve and Sam were staring at him, fully turned in their seats and it took Bucky a moment to realize they had pulled over. Bucky looked between the two of them, taking in the emotions comprising their expressions. Shock, confusion, maybe some horror but, most of all, concern. He wasn't quite sure what to do with it. He looked straight ahead but spoke to Sam. "I'm sorry."

Very slowly, Sam reached over and put his hand on Bucky's metal shoulder. Bucky made sure he didn't flinch. "It's okay."

"No, it's not." He was staring blankly at the dashboard, remembering. Bucky went on, his voice rough. "It's like being force fed, but you don't even have the satisfaction of throwing it back up."

Bucky said out loud the thing he feared the most. "I can't unlearn what they put in my head."

He felt something touch his hand and looked down to see Steve sliding his fingers around his, resting his palm against Bucky’s. Steve’s fingertips brushed against the inside of his wrist and Bucky focused on lowering his heart rate. He kept his head down because he couldn’t handle blue eyes just then.

In the silence of the car, Steve’s voice was soft. “We’re with you, Buck. We’ll figure it out.”

Steve squeezed his hand. Bucky focused harder on keeping his heart rate down and his eyes dry. Eventually, he did look up, hit with the full force of Steve’s hopeful expression. Bucky couldn’t muster up a smile.

Sam patted his shoulder, heavily. “Man, those puppy dog eyes are _killer_ , Barnes.”

Bucky gave Sam an unimpressed look and held up his metal arm. “You wanna hold my hand, too?”

Steve threw Bucky’s hand to the side but was laughing when he tried to ruffle Bucky’s hair. Bucky dodged it, wrapping his fingers around Steve’s wrist and flicking his exposed ribs with his metal hand. There was another minute of playful grappling before the two of them settled down, grinning.

Bucky shifted so his knees dug into the back of both seats, Steve responding with a grunt and Sam pursing his lips. As Steve reached to start the car again, Bucky asked, “You want me to drive?”

“No?” Steve turned to him, confused. “Why?”

Bucky shook the hair out of his eyes. “I’d like to get there sometime today.”

Steve glared and turned the engine over. Bucky smiled at the blue eyes in the mirror.

As they pulled back into traffic, Sam reached under the seat and Bucky felt it move forward a notch.

\-----


End file.
